Amor Stupri
by whysosiriusumbridge
Summary: Fucking love. That's all the story's about - fucking love. And how fucking stupid and unexpected and strange it is. Throw in a bit of mischief, drama, drinks and a few legends. And a wolf. Not the one you think though. Welcome to the time in Hogwarts when everything was dope and hip hop and batshit crazy.


**Yes I'm doing this again. No the rest of my stories are not abandoned. No I don't have anymore chapters ready. No this has no update schedule. No this is not my usual writing style. Yes I hope you enjoy. And yes this one's gonna be dark - be warned. Will change the rating when we get to it. The progress of this depends purely on the response this time - so no promises when I feel like writing. You might wanna review and tell me how you feel about it though - cuz I ain't writing nothin unless I'm sure.**

* * *

 **September, 1975**

* * *

It's ridiculous really, Lyra thinks, that she's a part of - a _result_ of - such a fucked up story. There are poems written about it in the old texts - she isn't sure what they're called, but if she searched hard enough in the Norse section, she'd surely find them. At the same time, she's pretty sure none of them would have helped her see things from the point view that she ended up seeing as a result of being presented with the first hand version.

Chuckling to herself and digging her balled up hands a little further into her hoodie, she kicks a small stray pebble in front of her, pretending, like many other times she's pretended on this walk, that she's playing football with it. She keeps kicking it all the way to the edge of the forest, all the while remembering the story, how it'd been told to her.

* * *

 _'I don't' know what the fuck they expected – those imbeciles. They thought they'd just bind up my_ kid _and I'd keep quiet about it? And then, three months later, that's like a second to us up there, y'know – Aegir's holding a friggin feast. I don't care that it's not about Fenrir, I just don't want those dickheads happy and celebrating right after they did that to Fen. And they expect me to not lash out and kill someone? Bloody idiots.' Loki spits, like he's finally happy to tell the story to someone. And he's enjoying it – enjoying every second of the frustration it's bringing back, and she can see it. She knows that he's enjoying the_ shit _out of telling it to her._

 _Moving his right arm from under him and replacing it with his left, he continues after a sideways look at her, 'No offence to you of course, but your ancestors are arseholes.'_

 _'None taken, but you count as one too so yeah.' She says, scrunching up her face to avoid the sun getting into her eyes and fighting the smile that's almost on her face. They're somewhere on the coast of Miami – but she's not sure where. Earth is of no consequence to her anyway. At least not yet._

 _'Oh yeah. But I_ am _an arsehole. I_ know _that and I'm okay with it! But those fuckers just have their heads too far up their arses to admit it. Anyway, so what if I go in there and kill a servant or two? It's not like_ they _don't do that when_ they're _pissed – but oh, of course, they can't admit that! So they throw me out of the feast like I_ care _and then I have to argue with that shithead Eldir. I know he's a good guy – I even like him best out of the servants. So anyway, he tries to stop me, telling me I'm not welcome or some shit but of course I don't listen to him. So I just went in there and insult a bunch of them,_ again _, and all they're able to grunt out is that I'm not welcome. Like what even –_

Anyway _, so then Odin intervenes and asks Vidar to make a space for me, and like the pathetic pet he is Vidar gets me a drink. But I wasn't going to stop there. So then I tried to trip Bragi into it – he's always had a hard time turning down a fight, but even he doesn't relent. Out of good manners if nothing – says it's because we're not at Asgard. Useless coward. So then they all try to placate me – but I'm called the Silvertongue for a reason, y'know and Odin really ends up getting a nice dish out. Anyway later – '_

 _'Y'know this is taking too long, right? I gotta get back to homework man. You know that. McGonagall is gonna grow me some balls and then kick them right there – in front of the whole class.' She tries to speed it up – he's enjoying himself too freakin much. She knows that she is too, but it's mostly to tease him about it – he rarely gets so talkative. Especially about all the idiots up there._

 _He shushes her with the other hand and continues on like she didn't interrupt. 'So later Thor comes there and starts threatening me and everything. Now I wouldn't be fazed normally – he has the biggest head of them all_ but _he also has a pretty big hammer. And then he starts saying that he'll knock my head off with it if I don't stop and everything, so I have to bail on the party. I did run away but they caught me. And what they did next is something I can't tell you because you're too young for it.'_

 _Wait – what? What the hell does he mean by that?_

 _'I'm fourteen and I've seen two planets already. That's a shitload more than a normal kid should be able to handle. I can handle-'_

 _'Oh but you're not a normal human. You're half Asgardian, with our blood there in the mix – that's why you could handle the interplanetary travel –'_

 _'Don't you fucking dare get technical on me Uncle, this shit ain't fair -'_

 _'Life isn't fair. Get over it.' Loki replies with a shit eating grin that makes her want to punch him. A_ God _. So much for being patient with the damn history lesson._

 _'But you still haven't told me who my ancestors exactly are! Were they in this story?'_

 _'Maybe.'_

 _What -? 'But you said you were gonna tell me how my race came into being on earth!'_

 _He only smirks down at her silently like the little shit he is, mirth shining in his eyes._

 _'So what – Wait. Y'know what? Fuck it. I don't care. Either you'll tell me one day, or you won't. Right now all I care about is Minnie taking my balls if I fuck up her essay. Are you taking us back or what?'_

* * *

Uncle had taken her back immediately after – thankfully no apparition and no shit and she was back at the flat in the blink of an eye. She hates apparition. Even with Asgardian blood running through her veins, she thinks she'll never get over the nastiness apparition brings you. Fucking wizards.

Kicking the pebble to the side as she reaches the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Lyra's mind is only on one thing – making sure Fen's okay. She already knew it was a terrible terrible idea when Loki suggested that it'd be fun to break out Fenrir and drop him off on earth for his safety. It was even more idiotic of her to think that Loki's idea had made sense at the time. She, however, had forgotten that her Uncle was known as the God of Mischief for a goddamn reason. When he meant earth, she hadn't realized he meant a fucking _school_.

Granted, it was a wizarding school and just _happened_ to have the perfect hiding spot for a huge, violent wolf; but that didn't make it any less of a stupid idea. Even for that, Fenrir was an intelligent being, and thankfully, had taken an immediate liking to her when they had met two years back. It was against the laws for Loki to even see him, especially along with her, but then, when had he _ever_ cared about them anyway?

So when Fenrir had learnt about their plan, he had helpfully transformed himself to a somewhat manageable size. But that didn't mean that looking at him didn't make her want to shit herself _at least_ once. He was still scary as fuck.

He was death black all over, about the average height of a normal human, so that if he stood, she was staring directly into his eyes. Of course it didn't help that his eyes weren't brown or black but almost freaking _gold_. It was a piece of work getting to him through the insane forest – seriously who's idea even was that? – but when she did, she was never disappointed.

After all, it's good to finally be with someone you can talk to. And Fen would respond in kind. First, he'd just look at her lazily, a _bit_ happily. Later, when she was settled by his belly, he'd usually enter her head. It was the only way he knew how to talk. He'd make the odd comment about someone at school. Because of course he's still got the power to see all of their futures and knew who she was talking about. She normally mentioned just the odd kid – and he'd randomly tell her who he or she'd end up marrying, or when he would die, and why he wouldn't hand their homework in next week. It was odd, random and very much fun.

Just the same, when she arrives, he welcomes her with a short grunt, waving his tail lazily. It's been more than a year now since she's arrived at Hogwarts. The story she had to feed the Headmaster was absolute horseshit, with only a silver of truth to it. To be honest, talking about her real parents like she still cared about them was weird. But she'd had to because that was a main part of the story they needed the guy – Dumbledore – to believe. Loki said he had a soft spot for trusting blindly, especially someone in need, so they had to make him believe that she'd lost her parents early on and brought up by her loving Uncle who got a job in the States and blah and blah and _blah_.

He lapped it all up of course, because Legilimency was _nothing_ compared to what Asgardians could do. For all the good the man pretended to be, the headmaster was a sneaky little shit.

 _'The White Beard will die of his greed.'_

Fen often refers to people with respect to colors so that's not what she's surprised about. But _wow_ , she had _not_ expected Dumbledore to be _greedy_ of all things. It's a shocker, sure, but then, not that big of one. She's known for a while that the man a good reputation – hell, a _too good_ reputation. After all, they'd done their research when they decided on Hogwarts. The guy's not after power – he's declined the ultimate power position at least twice now. So it's gotta be something else.

She's not that concerned though – and her thoughts are running rampant tonight anyway. It's just the first week back and Fen looks like he's missed the forest. It's always very cramped in her flat in London, and Fen has to shrink himself even more to fit in there. She thinks he's missed being _big_. Even she has missed the school – or at least the warm beds and baths and not having to clean up after herself often.

She's not lazy, per say, but let's just say that she wished she had a house elf of her own. But since that's against almost everything she stands for, she never asks Loki for one. She hates that shit in Asgard as well. She also has a sneaking suspicion that her generation has evolved from one of the servants, even though it doesn't make any sense. But that seems like a reason Loki keeps putting off telling her the whole thing. After all, she knows he's not this close to any other of his pupils and has a soft spot for her. She just knows it in the way everyone looks at him weirdly whenever he's walking with her in Asgard.

Chuckling to herself as she watches Fen pawing at a bird of some sort, and jostling her in the process, she decides it's a good time for a smoke.

Ah yes – it's one of the few reasons she's glad she's half human. She knows for a fact that Thor cannot get drunk – or at least get drunk _easily_ , or on anything from earth. But she totally can. Get pissed, get high, get freaking baked as a cake and even then some more. It's one of the perks of being immortal. Or _almost_ immortal. Since she's half human – she's definitely got an expiry date. She just isn't sure how far away that is.

 _'Very far'_

She snorts again, rubbing her right hand against Fen softly, to thank him for the encouragement. Then she's pulling away and shuffling into her pocket for a cigarette. Pulling it out, she lights it wandlessly and puts it between her teeth while replacing the pack back in her jacket. That sparks a memory from earlier in the day.

* * *

 _'Love the look. Is it leather?' a voice asks, while she's busy scribbling in her book. She starts, worried for a moment that it was Madam Pince, looking for a reason to throw her out of the library_ again _, even if she's scribbling in her own book._

 _She looks up to see the Gryffindor Prefect, uh –_ Lupin _, yeah. Remus Lupin. He's a good kid – near the top of the class and a very bright record. Being in the same house means she knows some more about him than she'd know about the average student. For one, he hangs about Potter, Black and the Pettigrew kid – which is weird in itself because those three have a track record with 'McGonagall' and 'detention' that he doesn't share. And also that this is actually the first time she's seen him without at least one of them at his flank._

 _Huh. Weird. Then she remembers that she has to reply to his question, and plastering a small smile - which feels fucking weird – she shakes her head in a no._

 _'It just looks like it is.' She replies. She'd bought the jacket in a small stall just outside the station. It was a split second decision, but it was a good one. She loved this jacket and it since it was actually one of the few clothes she owned that she_ liked _, she preferred to wear it all the time._

 _'Nice. Looks deceivingly good though – what are you reading?' Lupin is still standing on her left, not having taken a seat, so she looks over at him in surprise._

Why the sudden interest?

 _He chuckles harmlessly as she looks at him, throwing himself in the seat beside her with a grace she wouldn't have guessed the boy had. She watches as his hair flops slightly as he settles and then smirks to herself – so_ that _was the reason for the existence of the fanclub._

 _It was a sure shot thing – one girl or the other would always be following him around subtly, from the same small group that eyes him at dinner. She'd noticed several of them – their attention was almost always on the four boys on the Gryffindor table. They were a popular bunch – she'd give them that._

 _'I'm trying to make sense what the_ fuck _Shakespeare was thinking when he wrote this play.' She snorts, flipping over to show him the inside of her book – it was covered in her own scribbles. She liked to comment on what she read. But since the book was covered, Lupin would still have no idea which one she was talking about – since the fucker wrote_ so many _fucked up things._

 _'Wait – let me guess.' Lupin says, holding up his index finger to stop her. Then he narrows his eyes and regards her, before saying – 'Hamlet?'_

 _'Bang on!' She says, grinning at the sandy haired boy. How the hell did he know that?_

 _'Ha! Knew it. It's a huge shit show.' He replies, relaxing back and grinning at her. She mentally imagines some girl sighing pathetically at that smile. It's pretty sigh-able._

 _They go on to discuss the part she's reading – Lupin is surprisingly sarcastic and a really good conversationalist. It's fun indulging him with his views on Shakespeare, which he later admits that he doesn't get to discuss that often as rarely anyone here reads muggle literature. With the exception of Lily, of course._

 _Lily's the other Prefect and one of the girls she shares a room with. They don't talk much – but from what she's gathered, the girl's a goody-two-shoes. Prefect is the right post for her. And apparently, she's a muggle born too. In that respect, Evy doesn't know how to categorize herself – magical hybrids?_

 _She snorts to herself at the joke, and Lupin, who's been sitting quiet for a moment – looking spaced out, looks over at her. To deflect the inevitable question, she asks him why he's sitting idle._

 _'Oh, I'm hiding actually. Yeah, I guess I forgot to mention that.' He chuckles self-depreciatingly, looking around carefully, as if he's worried someone will find him. It_ was _one of the most secluded corners of the library she chose though, as she always does. So he eventually leans in, as if telling her a secret._

 _'James and Sirius are hunting me because – well, because Lily's hunting_ them _. It's for a prank I pulled.' He admits, smirking satisfactorily as her mouth hangs open. What a sneaky little bastard!_

 _She grins back at him eventually,_ amused _. 'I'm guessing Lily doesn't know you did it?'_

 _Still grinning, he shakes his head in a No. They both start sniggering at the same time – there's something about the boy that she can't put her finger on. He has brown eyes. There's something about that. They're shining when he laughs. Shining an odd color._

 _'Well, someone's been a naughty boy.' She says in between chortles. It's ridiculously funny to her – because to almost everyone around them, he's the responsible one, even to Lily, it seems. And to learn that all that while, there's a very good chance that he's the mastermind behind half the shit that the other two pull – it's refreshing to learn that mischief still comes in good form at this school._

 _Literally too though – as Lupin is built like a fucking tree. He's got rippling muscles and he's tall – like_ tall _. And it's hard to hide his body under a robe – she suspects this is also one of the reasons for the existence of the fanclub. He's definitely eye candy – she can't deny that._

 _She's seen him in the many classes they share – he's always been the only in their group who seems to live with his head on his shoulders and not up his arse. In potions, he's sweating like a furnace and is the first to remove his clothes at the start of the class when it starts getting stuffed in the dungeon. And he's also the first to pull them on and dash out of the room when the class is over. It was one of those times that he almost ran her over last year – and also the reason they know each other's names. They'd only had a few interactions over the year and majority of them were nodding politely to each other in the hallway._

 _'Oh, that's not the only naughty thing I do.' He's saying suddenly, suggestively, and she's proper shocked for a second. But then she can notice the non-serious look in his eyes – it's just some friendly flirting._

* * *

She exhales a laugh at that realization – she was shocked with a _fifteen year old_ guy flirting with her. That's how much out of it she's been. The whole year, she thinks she's spent hardly any time on the social scene.

She's run out of two cigs while thinking of the incident. Pulling out a third, and swearing to herself that she's not gonna do anymore for the time being – after all, there's no rush to check out the immortal theory – she decides that she has to up her game.

She's spent the last year hiding in the shadows, making sure no one knew she was there and was practically unnoticeable. It'd been a part of her plan – to maintain her secret longer. After all, the less people she knew, the less it'd hurt when she has to go back. The less risk her secret is in.

But then, where's the fun in that? Where's the _mischief_ in that? So it might or might not have been Lupin to flash that news in front of her – but it doesn't matter. At least she's realized it now.

Even so, the guy's a good place to start – he's smart, intelligent, good looking, has a freaking fan club – what else could she want? If not a _relationship_ – she almost snorts disgustedly at that – then at least a friendship with the guy. She wonders what Fen sees about it.

 _'Wolf. Pain. Lonliness.'_


End file.
